


Love and Fear

by biprincess



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23623624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biprincess/pseuds/biprincess
Summary: If fear equals love and love equals fear, where does that leave Pennywise?
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh/Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 3





	Love and Fear

PART ONE - AUGUST  
CHAPTER ONE - Richie

I can't remember who suggested playing "7 Minutes In Heaven", but if I could, I'd punch them right in the face. Now I'm locked in a closet with Eddie Kaspbrak, who I haven't spoken to since middle school, and back then we were really good friends and actually liked each other.

Now? Not so much. Two years can really put a rift between people, and it's still here now, in the room with us. Clearly, neither he nor I know what to do with ourselves.

After a bout of silence, Ed sighs and sinks back into the clothes, sliding down the wall so he can sit. He looks up at me expectantly, so I do the same, though I do it opposite him. 

We make no attempt to touch one another.

I look at the clothes on either side of me; a plaid patterned flannel, red, brown, and orange, and a simple black tank top. I inspect them as though I have never seen anything so interesting. Eds does the same, pulling a dark green button down close to his face. Noticing the watch on his wrist, I ask,

"We've been in here a long time, how much longer do we have?"

Ed checks his watch;

"We've only been in here for 55 seconds." he responds.

"Are you fucking serious?" 

He nods, once.

God, it feels like it's been an eternity! Whoever controls time is definitely up there rewinding it everytime it tries to move forward, the fucker.

I sneak a glance at Eddie - he's grown so much! He's taller, but still not as tall as me, and he's lean. He still keeps his hair short, and wears a watch, but his face is different, his jawline stronger. His dark eyes look anywhere but me. 

He's wearing a simple dark purple v neck and a pair of khaki shorts; white vans. He looks like he used to, except maybe...more handsome? I don't know. This is the first time I've seen him up close in ages.

Truthfully, I'm surprised he came to this party at all. I was so shocked, that when I saw him I nearly dropped my beer, and when Bev unknowingly paired him with me (she is unaware of what happened, being new) to come in here, it would have been embarrassing to argue. So into the closet we went.

Sometimes, when I remember the way we were, I miss him. Miss the way we used to laugh, talk, stay out late so we could be together and not have to go home. But then I remember the way we ended, and the memories sour. 

"So..." I say, if only to fill this uncomfortable silence. "How have you been?"

Eddie looks to me like I asked him to watch me grow an extra arm.

"Uh...good." he answers, after some thought. He speaks slowly, cautiously. "What about you?"

"Good, too." I lie. "How's your mom?"

Eddie tilts his head, almost amused.

"My mom?"

Thinking he didn't hear me, I repeat, "Yeah, your mom. How is she?"

"You didn't hear?"

I think back, but nothing comes to me. Did she get married? Did she get an important job? I feel like an asshole for not knowing, all of a sudden, though I haven't known much about him since middle school - only the things that everyone knows, that everyone sees, like he's a bit of a loner but he's super smart, and that he has a very sick mom. But still, not much.

I shake my head, no. "Hear what?"

"My mom died." he says. "Maybe two months ago?"

I'm sorry, what? I'm so stunned I can't respond, words suddenly foreign to me. How could I have not known about this? How could I have not known that his mom died? She may have been...not the best of women, but she was still his mom, regardless. Two months ago? Jesus, that was the end of junior year! Two months of nothing to do except think about what you lost - I couldn't imagine.

I open my mouth to speak, to say anything, really. But just then, the closet door opens, and Beverly pops her head in. 

"Hey, guys, you can come out now!" she's incredibly chirper, not knowing what she's walked into. She's trying to see if we did anything, I can tell by the way she's studying us both, but there's nothing to see. 

I'm desperate to offer up some sort of comfort, but there ends up being no point.

Eddie hops to his feet, quickly, flashing Beverly a bright smile to distract her from the palpable tension in the room.

"Great!" he exclaims, too bubbly. "I'm dying for a drink."

He slides out the door without giving me another look, but Beverly is staring me down with a quizzical brow.

"You alright, Rich?"

Snap out of it, snap out of it! Act normal, man, jesus.

"Yeah!" I say, standing. "Yeah, of course. Just trying to remember if I turned off the stove at home or not."

"And did you?" 

I shrug. "Yeah, I think so."  
-

I'm trying to enjoy the party, but I keep thinking about Eddie. How he must be feeling, dealing, if he's dealing at all. I keep trying to think about how I couldn't have known, how nobody told me. My parents, I'm sure they think I wouldn't care. But my friends? Maybe around school? How could this be the first time I'm hearing about it?

"Another drink?" Ben asks, posing a bottle of alcohol over my cup, ready to pour. 

"Always." he tops me off, then sits down beside me. Me, Ben, Beverly, Stan, Bill, and Mike all sit in a small circle, so close we bump arms every time we pass a join to the next person in line. People mill about all around us, and some girl is so wasted she's barely stable on her feet, beer sloshing over the rim of her cup and narrowingly missing Stan's curls. He himself is too drunk to notice. 

"Hey," I say to the group, "Did you guys hear about Eddie Kaspbrak's mom?"

Everyone nods, except for Bev, who is trying to put faces to names.

"Eddie Kaspbrak was the guy in the closet with Richie earlier tonight." Ben explains to her.

"Oh. I didn't think you guys knew each other." She inhales on the joint that Ben passes her."That's why I put you guys together."

"Nah, they used to be best friends," Stan slurs. "Way back in the early years of high school. You couldn't separate the two of them if you wanted to. But then they had a fight, and haven't spoken to each other since, because sometimes friendships are pointless and eventually all relationships end."

"That was fucking depressing, dude." I say, part of me annoyed that he spoke so freely, but knowing that it is the alcohol's fault. I can’t say that he’s wrong.

"But yeah," I confirm to Bev, "He's right. Anyway, Eddie's mom? Does anyone know what happened?"

"C- chronic diabetes is what did her in." Bill tells us. "My mom t-t-told me."

"And why didn't any of you tell me?" I ask.

"I thought you k-knew." he responds. "I figured your p-p-parents would have told you or something."

"Well, they didn't." I say. "No one told me anything."

-

Finally, at about 3:00 in the morning, the party begins to peter out, and people start to head home. Everyone is trashed; people stumbling over their own two feet, everyone drinking to forget that school starts in a week. I don't even know whose house this is, but it's gonna be difficult to get rid of all the people who are out cold in the various rooms of his house. 

Stan is so drunk he can barely stand now, and Mike takes him home, dropping Bill off on the way. Since Ben and Bev came together, they leave together, and I came on my own.

Driving home on a nearly empty road, my thoughts, once again, turn to Eddie. We live right down the street from one another; how could this have slipped past me? My heart breaks for him, losing his mother? Having no one to turn to? Where was I? He could've come to me, he should known that. No, I should have made it known. I could've put away our past, couldn't he have done the same?

Did I really hurt him that much?

I debate on going to see him. I mean, I'm almost home - I could just show up on his doorstep. But when the time comes, I simply drive by his house, instead pulling up to my own. The street is quiet, all homes dark. A few crickets chirp. The moon shines bright in the sky.

Unfolding myself from my car and shutting the door as quietly as I can, I almost go inside. I stand on my welcome mat, debating.

"Just go," a voice tells me.  
But it could go bad.  
"It could also go well."  
It won't.  
"You sound like you want it to."  
Shut up.  
I haven't spoken to Eddie in over 2 years; what on earth would I even say? I know he hasn't forgotten what happened, neither have I, but this...this is different. Eddie's mom? I should've been there!  
Jogging down the driveway, I head for Ed's house. My heart pounds in my ears, and my hands shake, but I ring the doorbell, nonetheless.

CHAPTER TWO - Eddie

I pause Evil Dead, because I could've sworn that I just heard the doorbell ring. Who could that be? I'm not expecting anyone, and I definitely don't have any friends. So who?  
Setting my big bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, I go to cautiously answer the door.  
"Richie." I say, so shocked that it comes out almost inaudible. I want to say more, but anything that I think of sounds ridiculously stupid.  
He's still wearing what he was at the party; a red and blue striped flannel, black v neck, and black skinny jeans, with black converse. He must've come here right after, or just about.  
"Richie, are you alright?" I ask. (I can smell the alcohol on him).  
He shifts his weight. He's thinking. Trying to make sure what he says next comes out the way he wants it to. He has yet to look at me directly, but he does so now. It's enough to make me let my guard down, which I didn't even know was up.  
"I'm sorry about your mom." he finally says, after a beat. "If I had known, I would have come over sooner."  
I study his face, unsure what to say. He would've come by sooner? We both know that's not true. But then again, he is here now. So maybe it is.  
This is so out of the blue, I've had no time to prepare. I'm so tongue tied it's embarrassing. I can't speak, regardless of how much I want to, and I know that soon enough, Richie will get the wrong idea, and think I don't want to talk to him. Which is so not true.  
"I know what happened between us, of course I'm not going to forget that," he continues. "But I would've put it all aside. If you had needed me, I would've been there for you."  
"Um..." I whisper. God, fucking say something! Anything! "Okay."  
Except that.  
He nods, like that's what he expected me to say, and starts to back up, to leave. Again.  
"That's all I wanted to say, I think." he checks to make sure he doesn't trip down the stairs. "Bye, Eds."  
I watch him walk down the street, and it's only when he's far way that I'm able to meekly respond, "Thank you."  
But he's too far down the street to hear me. I watch him disappear into his house before I finally shut the door to my own.  
-  
He called me Eds.  
In middle school, I hated that nickname, but now, after so long of not hearing it, I welcome it with open arms. I'm Eds Kaspbrak, and I love it!  
Richie Fucking Tozier just came to my house. Stood on my stoop and talked to me, even though we are no longer friends.  
Called me Eds, the nickname he gave me when he still liked me.  
I didn't realize how much I missed him until I saw him again. He's gotten so tall now! He still looks like himself, but maybe more...handsome. Curls still luscious, but much longer - in his eyes. His eyelashes are longer, perfectly framing his piercing brown eyes. He's filled out more, has a bit of muscle to him.  
But he's still him. Underneath that. I can feel it, he's still him. He may not look like a nerd anymore, but he still is.  
I think I must be in an alternate universe, because Richie Tozier and I, we don't know each other, and we sure as fuck don't show up on each other's doorsteps. There was something about it, something about the way he looked at me, that made me think that he meant what he said - he would've come by sooner, if he had known. Maybe he wanted to, regardless?  
Would I have let him? Of course I would've. I know I should've been the one to apologize, but he never gave me the chance. We let the silence go on for too long, and by the time I realized that what I should have done is fall on my sword, it was too late. Richie ended up better off without me.  
I peek out the window, down to Richie's house. I see that he still has his light on - he's still up.  
I want to go thank him properly, I do, but instead, I go upstairs. I tiptoe past my mom's room, like she's still sleeping inside, and go to my own.  
Turning on the bedside lamp and flooding the room in a soft gold light, I change into my pj's and crawl into bed.  
Staring up at my blue ceiling, I think,  
Richie Tozier, I miss you.  
-  
The first day of senior year dawns grey and overcast, the week having passed without another late night visit from Richie.  
When I go to get the mail, I give a quick glance down to his house, hoping to catch a glimpse of that wild mane of curls. No such luck.  
Sighing dejectedly, I slink back into my house. I put on a pot of coffee, drop a poptart in the toaster, and head upstairs to take a shower.  
After the shower, I get dressed, putting on a navy polo shirt, blue jeans, and my white vans. I tousle my hair, head downstairs, drink my coffee and eat my Poptart, then I head out.

CHAPTER THREE - Richie

First day of school? No fucking thank you. If my mom didn't physically drive me there, I would've ditched - which I'm sure she knows, and which is exactly why she drove me. Pulling up to the school, which is already teaming with teenagers, a sense of dread fills my stomach.  
Another year of this bullshit.  
Everyone always says that high school is when you grow up, but the truth is, you're still treated as a child. And maybe we all are, that's true - but they could at least try to stick to their word, right?  
Climbing out of the car, I sling my backpack over my shoulder and immediately head for the quad, where I am supposed to meet the rest of the losers. They'll be here soon, I'm sure, but I'll have to wait.  
Only a few kids are out here; and I see an empty bench that I immediately claim as my own. Looking around, I see no teachers, and so, as discreetly as I can, I put a cigarette to my lips and light up. Hey, don't blame me - I need it today. This bullshit? I'd take some alcohol and drugs, too, if it were offered.  
Inhaling deep, I relish in the slight burn it gives my lungs. I'm about to breathe in again when I see him.  
Eddie.  
We haven't talked since that night, but we haven't really seen each other, either. Seeing him now, I swear to god - my breath catches in my throat.  
Ridiculous.  
So I pretend not to see him, though I am acutely aware of every step he takes, until suddenly, he isn't taking one.  
He stands in front of me, looking down at me, watches as I blow out a cloud of smoke. His hands fiddle at his sides, and I can tell he's nervous - I've made him nervous. Bounces on his feet a bit, too. I meet his gaze and wait.  
He looks like he wants to say something, even opens his mouth to do so.  
Ultimately, he simply ends up sighing and practically runs inside to get away from me.  
I wish he had said something. I want to turn to look at him, but don't get the chance, because Mike comes gambling up, asking,  
"Hey, man, you got a cigarette for me?"  
I nod. "Yeah, of course."  
-  
Eddie and I have the same Anatomy class. I see him the moment I walk through the door, though I make sure it seems as though I don't. I quickly glance around the room, looking for any empty seat at these double tables; I see one, in the front, on the other side of the room. I keep my head down as I walk over to take it.  
I cannot fucking believe this.  
My first fucking day, and it throws me this bullshit.  
A short, fat, bald man wearing a tweed brown suit walks into the room, presumably the teacher. He stands in the front of the class as everyone gets settled, waits for us to quiet down.  
Then, in a vaguely nasally voice, he declares to the room,  
"I...am Mr. Turnstein. Welcome to your Anatomy class, where we will learn about...well, to be frank...anatomy. Don't get too comfortable where you are, because I'm going to pair you off. This arrangement...will be for the year."  
Please, god, pair me with anyone but Eddie. Even that gorilla looking boy in the back, who was so burly it was frightening. I'd rather be with him.  
Pulling a piece of paper out of his briefcase, he begins to read names:  
"Vera Claythorne and Phillip Lombard, you will be here," he motions to a table for each couple he names.  
He continues down the list, and towards the end, I finally hear my name;  
"Richard Tozier and Eddie Kaps - Kaspbrak. Here."  
Oh, you have got to be fucking shitting me. This shit is unfuckingbelievable! Is it just fuck with Richie Tozier day or something? Let's start Richie on a year long path of fuckery?  
Finishing the list, Mr. Turnstein says, "You can all go to your new seats."  
Everyone stands at once and moves. Walking over to that damned table, Eddie is already there, and I slide onto the stool to sit.  
I can't help but wonder if the two of us can go an entire year without talking - because right now, that's looking like a real possibility.

CHAPTER FOUR - Eddie

So, this is my life, huh? Sitting next to Richie Tozier like we haven't ever meant the world to each other.  
Of course. I am to blame for that, so, alright, alright. I suppose I can handle this.  
Looking over at Richie, I can tell he's as uncomfortable as I am, and so I don't say anything. I don't crack a stupid joke or anything. (Which is probably better, because I definitely would have made a fool of myself, for sure).  
Thankfully, Mr. Turnstein hands out syllabi to everyone, talking the whole time. He talks about how we will be dissecting cats, a cow's eye, and a sheep's brain - which is dumb, because none of those things has a real likeness to the true human anatomy. In fact, I read somewhere that a cow's eye is the size of a tennis ball - so much like our own, truly!  
The only reason I'm even here is because I have to be. I'm really not looking forward to touching all that nastiness - jesus, the germs. The thought is grossing me out already.  
Hopefully Richie does everything, and I'll end up doing the paperwork. Paperwork is much more my style.  
Finally, an hour passes, and we are dismissed. I'm so grateful I could cry. Without another look at Richie, I grab my bookbag and bolt.  
-  
This morning, I wanted to thank him, but when he looked at me directly, I swear I forgot how to speak. I couldn't do it, yet again. I just kept thinking, well, what if he was just drunk? What if he doesn't remember, didn't mean it, or, worse, what if he regrets it?  
I just lost my nerve.  
Speaking of this morning, after running across Richie, I went to the office to check and see if Ms. Honey was still the school nurse. (I was going to tell her that I wouldn't need any of my designated medicine this year, because I realized after my mom died that I was never really sick).  
The baseball coach, Mrs. Loinsdale, was in the office, too. Leaned over the front desk, chatting up someone I don't know. She recognzed me in a moment (though I tried to avoid her) and was immediately on me about coming to tryouts, which were happening in early September. I used to be really good at baseball, esentially the best. (Not to brag, though). It was beginning to look like it might be my niche, you know, but then mom got really sick again and needed round the clock care for the enirety of two weeks, and I just...never went back to it.  
Mrs. Loinsdale ends up roping me in an agreement that I would try out, come the time, and after I get the necessary forms from her, an internal debate that I'm sure will last right up till the day of tryouts.  
-  
Once home, I find myself ridiculously bored. The fact that it's the first day of school means there's no homework, but I kind of wish I had something to do. Right now I'm so bored, I'm think that I might go to the movie theatre. Not the new one, but the old Picture Show downtown - they're doing a double feature of Camp Bloodbath and Camp Bloodbath: The Sequel. It's only 7:30, I could totally make it in time.  
I park my car (which used to be my moms) and get out, the theatre only having a few people wandering about. I go inside and get my tickets, a large popcorn, and a Coke.  
There's not many people here yet, so I am free to sit where I please; I choose a seat close to the front, and get comfortable.  
I've always liked the theatre, epecially this one. I like the feel of it, the way that there's hardly ever anyone here, and that every movie costs 5 dollars, because they don't how anything new.  
Plus, ever since my mom died, I've been watching movies more and more. They truly are the perfect escape, I think, and I could definitely use that. Lately, I've been doing anything that'll help me escape - movies, food - I mean, it's why I went to that godforsaken party in the first first place. I knew there'd be alchohol, and what better escape is there, honestly? (Of course, I didn't know there would be Richie Tozier. He's more of a trap than an escape).  
Overhead, the lights go down, and withing seconds, the title flases across the screen:  
CAMP BLOODBATH  
I settle in.  
-  
About four hours later, as the credits roll and my eyes burn, the lights come on. Grabbing my empty popcorn bucket and cup, I walk down the row and up the aisle, joining the group of people doing the same as we get close to the exit.  
Then I trip over my shoelace, and drop both cup and bucket; as I pick them both up, I promptly knock into someone, and drop both all over again."  
"Oh, sor -"  
It's Richie.  
Oh, my god, I am so stupid. Of fucking course Richie would be here - he fucking loves horror films. He's even wearing a "Camp Bloodbath" t-shirt right now, and god, he looks good. Wait, no, besides the point.  
"I'm sorry." I finish.  
Richie is with his friends, my old friends, all except for the redheaded girl. (I think her name is Beverly? I've liked her every since rumors flew that Henry Bowers tried to grope her in the lunch line and she kicked him in the balls so hard that he had to have surgery. She maintains the notion that he kicked himself in the balls).  
I haven't talked to them in years, either, and it's weird to see them here, now. I missed Richie the most, naturally, but that doesn't mean I missed the rest of them any less. All of us, we were really close. I know how fucked up we got towards the end, but that doesn't erase what we used to have.  
I doubt Richie knows it, but every single one of them tried to reach me, after. Called, texted, even stopped by my house. I never responded, never answered the door. Never apologized to any of them, either.  
"Eddie." Richie says. "It's, uh...It's cool."  
We're all trying not to look at one another, but it's kind of difficult, because we're all going the same direction. I swear, there's never been kids as interested in tacky star printed carpet as the 7 us are, right now. I am clutching the bucket and cup to my chest, desperate to get out, careful not to get to close to any of the boys. Or Beverly, for that matter. No one speaks, but then, finally, we're out in the theatre's lobby.  
I break off and bolt for the door, tossing the bucket and cup into the trash. I can feel them watching me leave, and just I open the door, I hear Beverly say,  
"Well, that was awkward as fuck."  
And all the boys mumbling their agreement.  
Yeah, that awkward as fuck. You're telling me, girl.  
-  
Richie must still be out - his car isn't in the driveway. I don't know why it bothers me.  
Now home, I go upstairs, almost desperate to climb into bed and go to sleep.  
It takes me almost an hour to fall asleep.

CHAPTER FIVE - Richie  
We end up at iHop after the movie. No one says much of anything, and even after we've sat down - still nothing. We're all thinking about Eddie, I know it. (Except for Bevvy - I'm sure she 's caught on that something is wrong). Ben, Bev, and Bill are on one side of the booth, while Stan, Mike, and I sit on the other. Everyone is uncomfortable, and unsure.  
"What would you like to drink?" A bouncy blonde girl walks up, beaming one of those "I have to stay perky to keep my job" smiles. Her name tag reads "Summer."  
"Water." we all answer in unison.  
"Please," Mike adds.  
"Alright..." she's taking note of our loserishness, for sure. When she goes back into the kitchens, that's when Mike goes:  
"I'm just going to say it - I miss him. I miss Eddie, man."  
Everyone looks to him, myself included. It feels like he's speaking to me directly, but he won't look at me. He seems so shrink back a little bit, under our intense stares.  
"What?" I say.  
He can't be serious.  
He shrugs, as if to say, "Hey, that's just how it is."  
"I miss him, too." Stan pipes up.  
Oh, you have got to be fucking k i d d i n g me!  
"What, because we just saw him?" I say. "Guys, we see him every fucking day. Tonight is no different."  
"I miss him then, too." Bill says. "I miss him every day, Rich."  
"Maybe we should ask him if he wants to hang out?" Ben suggests, to eager nods from the group. Beverly looks between all of us, just trying to keep up. She still doesn't know what happened, but she's brimming with curiousity.  
I can't tell if I'm angry or not; I don't think I am. I think I might just be...upset that they have the nerve to talk about what I cannot. To say the thing that I can only say when I'm home, alone, and I know that no one will ever find out.  
"Hang out." I repeat. "You really think he's gonna want to hang out, after what happened?"  
"What did happen?" Bev asks.  
"He might." Mike chimes in.  
No one acknowledges Bev.  
"It's been two years," Bill says. "Maybe -"  
Suddenly, we are interrupted, as Summer sets a glass of water in front of each of us, tucking the tray she brought them over on under arm to pull out her ticket pad.  
"Do you guys know what you want?"  
"Uh, yeah." I clear my throat. I order 2 eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and toast. Everyone else places their orders, going in a circle, and once done, Summer leaves again.  
"Maybe," Bill continues, once she's out of ear shot, "He's forgiven you."  
I snort. "Doubt it."  
The table falls silent, and I know they're all waiting on me. I can't belive that a chance encounter at the fucking movie theatre made all these losers want him back. They see him everyday. We literally see him almost every day! But now they want him back?  
"Are you guys fucking serious?" I say. "You really want to bring him back into the group?"  
"Let's be honest," Stan says, taking a sip of water. "He never should have left, and you know it."  
Oh, so he wants to be sassy tonight. I want to say something snarky in response, but have nothing witty to say. Besides, I know he's right. He's fucking right, as always.  
"What does he mean by that?" Bev whispers to Ben.  
"Nothing." he whispers back.  
I want to fight them more, but I can't. I know it's something they all want - I can see it on their faces. Maybe they've wanted it for a while, and just couldn't tell me. It's possible theyve wanted it for years. Who am I to keep them from someone they used to (and want to again) know and love? Someone they never stopped loving? Was it fair of me to do so in the first place? Did they push him away because of me, and only kept me around because it felt obligatory.  
Shit, okay, whoa. Too deep to think about at an Ihop at 1:00 in the morning.  
I know I'm stuck.  
"Fine." I say, with a sigh."Well, who's gonna do it? Who's gonna talk to him?"  
Silence. I know who it's gonna be, but for the first time ever, I'm hoping I'm wrong.  
"I think it should be you." Mike mumbles into his water glass, taking a small sip.  
"Agreed." seconds Stan.  
"You really think that's a good idea?" I say. "Seriously?"  
"Yeah." Ben answers. "He has to know we're serious. Make sure he knows you're for real, Rich. We want him to come back, alright? We've missed him."  
"Alright." I say, defeated. "Fine, alright. I'll talk to him tomorrow."  
-  
I keep checking my reflection, my outift. I chose a simple white tshirt, black skinny jeans, and my converse: last minute, I add a dark brown mechanic's shirt that has 'RICH' embossed on it - a gift from my dad.  
I'm nervous - I really don't want to do this. I don't know if I should let Eddie back into my life, or rather - I don't know if I should come back into his. I spent the entire night tossing and turning, knowing that I was about to make a mistake, but knowing that I had to if I want to keep my friends. They don't know that my biggest fear is losing them, aand that i'll do anything to keep that from happening.  
I guess I just have to put the past aside. Put it aside for real.  
I jog downstairs, where my mom is grabbing her keys, getting ready to go. I follow her to the car, and she takes me to school.  
-  
"You're still going to talk to him, right?" Mike asks, waiting for me in the morning, in our usual place. The rest of the gang is already here, early for the first time in their lives. I am irked by it.  
I nod. "In Anatomy."  
"Don't pull out." Ben warns.  
"That's what your mom said last night." I joke, to cover up the fact that I was seriously thinking about backing out.  
"Don't." Stan takes on the same catiounary tone Ben had.  
Digging for my cigarettes, I slide one out of the pack. I offer one to every member of the group, but only Bev, Mike, and Stan accept.  
Putting it to my lips, and setting it alight, I say, "Alright."  
-  
But I can't do it.  
I swear, I came into the classroom intent and confident, but I lost my nerve the moment I saw him. He's sitting kinda hunched over on his stool, like he's the Hunchback Of Notre Dome or some shit, like a kid getting yelled at.  
He looks so pitiful that it causes me to back out.  
We don't say a word to one another. Mr. Turnstein collects our syllabus' (those who actually got them signed) tells us what were supposed to wear when we do labs, and finising early, with five minutes to spare, tells us that we are free to talk amongst ourselves untl the bell rings.  
Perfect oppurtunity, right?  
Wrong.  
It's like I suddenly don't have vocal chords, because everytime I try to speak, nothing happens. I'm blaming them, for sure. It has nothing to do with me, cause I am o v e r what happened. I'm busy making putting the past aside.  
Eddie refuses to look at me, and as usual, when the bell rings, he bolts. My friends are gonna be so disappointed in me, I know it. But I don't think they'll be surprised.  
-  
"You said you'd talk to him!" Mike says, exasperated. We are at lunch, in the cafeteria, and he's a bit hard to hear over all the noise. "Why didn't you?"  
All my friends look at me expectantly. I grab a handful of french fries and shove them into my mouth, choking on them a bit as they go down. I reach across the table for Stan's water bottle, downing half of it.  
"I tried." I say, after I can swallow correctly.  
"Oh, bullshit." Stan says. "You didn't try at all, did you?"  
I keep my eyes trained on my food.  
"R- r -Rich, just do it!" Bill says, "You know it's what n-needs to be done."  
"I don't want to." I say.  
"What do you mean, you don't want to?" Ben pops a tater tot into his mouth. He and Bev are sharing a basket of them, and a bottle of Dr. Pepper that I'm sure Ben brought with him from home.  
"Don't you m-miss him?" Bill questions. "Don't you want him to c-come b-b-back?"  
"No." I say, so quiet it's almost inaudible.  
But the table falls silent, so I know they all heard me.  
"What?" Mike asks, for everyone present.  
"No," I reiterate, "I don't want him to come back, and I sure as fuck don't miss him. And I have no fucking idea why, all of a sudden, all of you have changed your minds! You treated him badly, too, didn't you?"  
"We shouldn't have." Stan mumbles.  
"He's our f-friend." Bill says.  
"Oh, is he?" I snap. "Since when? Since yesterday?"  
"Since forever, Richie." Ben says. "You know that. We just...I guess we just forgot, and that's on us. You should have talked to him, and you know it. You know we messed up."  
"Oh, fuck off." I say, suddenly very irritated. "You know what? This is bullshit. This is absolute bullshit! 'I guess we just forgot, and that's on us?' You've got to be fucking kidding me. If you guys miss him so much, you can get him your damn selves. I don't give a shit. I don't give a shit!"  
No one was expecting that, including myself, and I instantly regret it. Everyone sit in a stunned silence.  
"Sorry." I say. "Sorry. I, uh...I think maybe I need some air?"  
I know I've overreacted, and I know why I overreacted, and now the group knows why I overreacted, too, and I need some fucking air right fucking now or I just might snap again.  
Good job, dumbass.  
Once outside, I breathe in the cold August autumn air, harsh in its temperature. I'm still trying to calm down, sitting on the edge of the fountain that's in the middle of the quad, breathing in deep. I see my friends come out of the double doors. Spotting me, they come over.  
Stan sits on one side of me, Mike on the other, and Bev and Ben sits cross legged on the cold concrete. Bill remains standing.  
"So you m-m-miss him, then." he says, after some silence.  
I nod, pulling at a hangnail. "Yeah."  
There's no point in lying.  
"Why didn't you just tell us, man?" Mike asks, nudging my arm with his.  
"You know why." I say. "You know."  
"You should talk to him." Bev says, leaning back on her palms. "I think you should talk to him as soon as possible, honestly."  
"You don't even know what happened," I remind her.  
"I don't need to." she says. "He clearly means a lot to you, and if that's true, then I think you should talk to him. I'm a firm beliver in keeping the good people that we care about close to us."  
Ben smiles at her, eyes full of adoration, but she doesn't seem to notice.  
"After all these years?" I'm still so fucking hesitant. "What would I even say?"  
"How about...hi?" she proposes.  
"You know it's not that simple." I tell them all.  
"But it also might be." Bev says. "You never know."  
"Go see him tonight, man, alright?" Stan says, clapping me on the back. "If you want. It's been 2 years. Things change, people grow. You included. Look, you're completely different then you were back then. That shit - that was a bad time. For all us. The rift is great, but, I don't know, man...build a bridge. Fix it."  
Goddamnit, I know he's right. I know he's right! Why does he always have to be right?  
"Okay." I nod. "Alright. I'll go see him tonight. He'll be here with us tomorrow, I swear."  
-  
That night, at about 8:00 o'clock, I head over to Eddie's. The living room light is on, so I know he's home, and for some reason, standing in front of his door, I feel...fear.  
There's a chance Eddie will be in my life again.  
Knocking lightly on the door, I wait. A second later, it opens, and Eddie stands there, with mussed up hair and a pair of blue, navy, and white checkered pajama bottoms. He freezes when he sees me.  
"Hi." I say, my voice coming out quiter than I mean for it to.  
He looks behind him, to the emptiness of his house, like maybe someone is standing behind him and I'm talking to them.  
I laugh, lightly. I forgot that Eddie has a great sense of humor.  
"I'm talking to you." I assure him. "Hi, Eddie."  
"Oh." he looks at me, full on. "H - hi, Richie. Is everything...are you alright?"  
"Yeah, no, everything is okay." I say. He asked me if I was okay. Just like he did the night of the party.  
"Then, um...I'm sorry, not to sound rude, but what are you doing here?"  
I can't blame him for that. I want to say everything, I do, but it's like a wall is around those words, like they're damned to stay there forever.  
So what I say instead is;  
"Would you -" I shift my weight. "Would you maybe want to come hang out with us tomorrow?"  
He tilts his head, trying to judge if I'm lying. "Us?"  
"Yeah, us. The gang, you know?" I say. "Bev and Bill, Stan, Mike, Ben -"  
"And you." Eddie finishes.  
I nod, once.  
He studies me, incredulous. The night falls silent around us as he debates, and then he says,  
"I don't understand. Is this some sort of joke?"  
"No, it's not a joke." I promise, shaking my head. "The gang wants you to come back, Eddie."  
"But not you?"  
"What?"  
"But you don't want me to come back." Eddie confirms for himself.  
"Eddie..." the rest of the sentence dies on my lips. I can't fucking do this, I shouldn't have come over here. I should have just gone the fuck home, got into bed, and slept for an entire week passed.  
"No, I get it now." he's on a roll. "You're only over here because they want me to come back, right? For whatever reason, they decided they want me to come back, and they told you to come talk to me so I would."  
"I -"  
"Oh, of course! This makes total sense now. God, I am so stupid!"  
Oh, no. No, no, no, he's hurt. He thinks he's got it all figured out. Say something, you can't lose him again!  
But he's riled up now, he won't let me get a word in otherwise. "Look, Richie, you don't have to do this, alright? Just tell them I said no, tell them whatever you want. Say I told you to fuck off. Say I said I couldn't forgive what happened."  
"We really want you to come back, though, Eddie."  
Even I don't believe me.  
"There's no need to lie to me, Richie, we're way past that. Just be honest."  
Just.  
Be.  
Honest.  
He's right, he's absolutely right.  
"I do want you to come back." I say. It all kind of tumbles out in an almost incomprehensible sentence, like my body knew that if I didn't say it now, I'd lose my nerve.  
"Please don't lie to me." Eddie repeats, but he's softer now.  
"I'm not lying. Look, Eds, I've missed you for a long time, okay? We all have. The gang told me to come over here, yes, but I wouldn't be here right now if I didn't think they were right."  
It feels kind of good to say everything, everything that I've had on my mind since middle school. To get it off my chest, man, it's like someone has taken a huge weight off of my chest.  
"Ri -"  
"Please, let me finish."  
"You don't have to." he says.  
"But I want to." I beg. "Look, okay, you remember, after -"  
"I remember." he cuts me off.  
"I know I said I needed space, and you gave me that, but you didn't have to - I didn't mean forever. I didn't mean for you to leave forever, Eddie. And I'm really sorry about what I said, that I never wanted to see you again, cause I didn't mean it. I was just trying to get you to feel differently about me."  
"Why?" Eddie kind of laughs, but it's sad. "Maybe I shouldn't have let you know how I felt, and maybe I don't regret what happened, but I knew you and I liked you. What's wrong with that?"  
"Oh, so much." I say, with a sigh. I didn't know that I had stopped looking at him until I have to force myself to look up from my feet. I don't explain what I mean by that, but I can tell by the way he's lookin g at me that he's trying to decipher it anyway.  
"I'm just -" annoyingly, my voice cracks. "I'm really fucking sorry, Eddie."  
His gaze is so intense that if we were in a different situation, I'd probably shrink into myself. He doesn't speak for so long that I begin to think he's isn't going to. His face is unreadable, but he never breaks eye contact. I start to think, "Shit, he isn't going to forgive me."  
He isn't going to forgive me.  
But then he says,  
"You wanna come in, Rich? I didn't realize how cold it is out here until just now."  
He's so nonchalant. There's a sparkle in his eye, a sudden casualness and ease to him. He steps aside, to welcome me into his house.  
I almost physically crumble under the relief from his words. I feel tears burn in my eyes, but I blink them back.  
"I'm so sorry, Eddie." I say. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear I didn't mean anything I said."  
He steps forward , and cautiously, he wraps his arms around me. He smells like he used to, clean sheets and cotton, and I know he's waiting for me to push him away, but I don't. I sink into him, and his hands rest on the small of my back, and I squeeze him so tight that I swear I'm crushing him.  
"It's alright." he says, voiced dulled by my body. "Hey, it's alright. I forgive you, Rich. I forgave you years ago."  
Breaking the hug, he smiles up at me.  
"Come in, will you?" he offers. "I'm freezing my ass off."

CHAPTER SIX - Eddie  
When we were 16, I kissed Richie Tozier.  
At this point, I had liked him for 3 years, but hid it pretty well. I doubt he had known beforehand.  
He was at my house, and we were up in my room, the door shut to keep my mom out.  
"Just What I Needed" by The Cars played softly, from a record that Richie had brought over and I had put on, and Richie had found a hidden bottle of peppermint schnapps in the back of one of the kitchen cabinets at his house that he had also brought along to share with me. (We thought that this would be more entertaining).  
Taking another swig from the bottle, I pass it back to Rich. (I'm trying not ot make a face as it burns my throat, but I fail).Wiping away a drop hat has lingered on my chin and hiccuping slightly, I laugh as Richie almost chokes on the drink he takes. He erupts into laughter when he can breathe again.  
We're waititng for Ms. Reynolds to post our grades for the final, and I'm nervous as hell because if I don't get at least a C, I'll be put in summer school. My grades had tanked after my mom had become sick again, and even though she's better now, I've had a hard time getting them to come back up. Richie has been helping me study, my math being so poor (and he's super good at it, though he'd never admit it), and today we see if his help paid off. I pass this class, and I'm free for two months. Two months!  
"Refresh the page," Richie instructs.  
Doing so, I see that there has been an update.  
"She posted it." I say. "She posted it!"  
"Well, what's it say? Lemme see, lemme see!"  
Final: B. 86%. I lean forward, our foreheads bumping into one another, so we can both look at the tiny screen of my cell phone.  
"I passed." I say, bouncing up and down a bit, the bed hating me forit. "Holy shit, I passed!"  
"Hell yeah, man!" Richie punched me lightly on the arm. "I knew you could do it, I wasn't worried for a second."  
I'm sure he's lying, but I'm too happy to argue. I'm beaming, estatic about my grade, and he leans forward and wraps his arms around me, in an awkward hug, surprising me.  
"I'm proud of you," he says, pulling away. He tousles my hair. My stomach is full of butterflies, ad I misread the situation, because for some reason I lean forward on the bed, and kiss him. Just briefly, barely 2 seconds. I was just so excited, so relieved!  
I just liked him so much.  
But seeing Richie's reaction, I knew I'd messed up. Duh, of course I had! I began to apologize profusely, realizing my immense mistake.  
Richie is still staring at me, intensely. Thinking that I've messed us up completely in the matter of a moment, a heavy feeling begins to form inside me.  
Richie pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. I've grown so nervous that I cannot speak, and then,  
Richie leans forwards on his hands, and puts his lips to mine. Just as briefly as I had done. He pulls back and looks at me, and we search each other's eyes. I'm trying to make sense of what the f u c k is going on, nd the only logical explanation is that the alchohol has caused hallucinations. Richie runs a hand through his hair. We're seemingly waiting for something, a sign, almost. Honestly, I'm waititng to wake the fuck up, because I know for sure that I'm dreaming.  
Richie comes in again, places his lips on mine. We are both up on our knees, testing each other out, it seems, and I like the way he tastes, like the peppermint schnapps we drank, but softer.I tentatively deepen the kiss, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, and Richie pushes his body against mine, his hands coming from my back to my front, resting lightly on my hips, clutching my shirt. He kisses me like he can't get enough of me, fingerss hot on my skin as he slides his hands up under my shirt.  
I break the kiss to lay on my back, and since we're still attached we both fall back together. Richie crawls on top of me, mouth on mine again in an instant, hands on my body and mine on his, and we're us but we're also more than us, knowing that is not just a kiss but it is the kiss, and I've forgotten everything that isn't just me and him, until -  
I am violently thrown back into the here and now, as my mom storms into the room. She is shouting at us, for some reason, yelling that she knocked but we didn't answer, and she's pulling Richie off of me and away from me, and she's angry. I've never seen her so angry! She's yelling that Richie needs to get the fuck out of her house, she never wants to see him again, never wants to see him or any other of my friends. They were to blame, they corrupted her sweet boy!  
I'm pleading with her to stop, no, mom, stop, I kissed him. But she's too livid. Richie is on the ground still, and he's scared, I can tell. She's saying things, calling him names, and I'm trying to tell her to stop, pleading with her to stop, and I am trying to tell Richie to go, just go. Just fucking go! I have never been so scared that Richie would be hurt than I was in that moment, and I wanted anything other than that.  
With a last look at me, he does, practically running out the door, and my mom turns on me, saying how it's alright, she knows he manipulated me, and she's so fucking wrong it makes me mad. I want her to listen to me, but she won't. She yells so much that it all begins to blend together, and it feels like forever before she finally leaves, slamming the door shut behind her.  
It takes half an hour for my heartbeat to return to normal.  
I stay in my room for dinner, too scared to come out. When I finally do, at midnight, I creep down the hall to the living room and see that my mom is asleep in her ecliner. I sneak out and run down the street to Richie's, his glasses in hand, and not knowing if his parents know, I play it safe and go around to the back of his house. His light is on, and I somehow know he's waiting for me. I knock on his window. Within seconds he slides it up, but he's not...  
He's not happy to see me.  
I clumsily climb in through the window anyway.  
Richie shuts the window after me and goes back over to his bed, where it appears he was reading a grahic novel called "Valerian: The New Future Triology" before I interrupted him. I can see the bookmark sticking out of it from where it lay on the bed.  
I stand awkwardly at the foot of his bed. Richie looks at me.  
I'm sensing that is something is wrong with us. A crack in our verneer. Like we suddenly don't know how to talk to each other.  
Thankfully, I suddenly remember why I came over, besides the obvious; his glasses. I take a step forward and put them on his bed, take a step back. Richie waits until I'm at a distance to lean forward and take them, wiping off my fringerprints with his shirt before putting them on.  
"Thanks." he said.  
I nod.  
"Is that all?" he asks.  
His cold tone throws me off.  
"Um...yeah. Well, no. I just -" I don't finish the sentence. He knows what needs to be talked about just as well as I do.  
"I just - are you mad at me? Because of what happened? I didn't mean to kiss you, I swear."  
Richie sighs. Closes his eyes. His voice is much kinder when he finally does speak again.  
"No." he says, after a moment. "I...no. I'm not mad at you at all."  
"Then what is it?"  
"Please just go, Eddie."  
"But you said you weren't mad at me."  
"And I'm not." he assures me. "But I really think it'd be best if you left now. Before your mom notices that you've gone."  
"Rich -"  
"Please."  
There's a look in his eye, either sadness or fear or guilt, I don't know, that causes me to pause. There's seriously something wrong here, I can feel it. I don't - can't leave him. Not like this.  
"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's the matter." I said.  
"Fucking hell, Eddie."  
"I just want to talk about it." I said.  
"I don't." he said. "I don't want to talk about it, not ever."  
I blink. For some reason, his words really hurt me, take the breath out of me like I've been punched in the chest.  
"You're mad." I said. "Jesus, Rich, I swear I didn't mean it! Please don't be mad at me."  
Rich runs a hand through his hair. He's frusturated, and I push him to tell me what's wrong, saying something like "We can't leave it like this, I'm gone as soon as you tell me what the hell is w r o n g here, please don't be mad at me, you're my best friend, I love you -  
Richie's head snaps up when I said that, and he finally reacts,and I know now that those words are what pushed him to finally fucking talk to me.  
"Eddie, just how long have you been into me?" he said.  
The question throws me off.  
"You are into me, aren't you?" Richie studies me, my movements. I distinctly rememeber that the room seemed to have gotten unbearably hot, and that I started to sweat uncontrollably. I prayed that lightning would strike me dead right then and there.  
My first instinct is to lie, and I kind of stutter over the words:  
"Into you? Me? You, a boy? You're crazy, that's totally crazy!"  
"Oh, I knew it!" he says, jumpng off the bed. He pushes his glasses back into place. "I fucking knew it!"  
"But you kissed me back," I said, like a moron.  
"I shouldn't have," Richie is upset, but I still can't figure out why. "Oh, fuck, you really need to go now."  
He's pacing back and forth. I make no effort to move.  
"Now!" he yells, surprising us both. "Seriously, get the fuck out of my house! I need to - I need to think. Just give me some time to think, is that possible for you?"  
I'm shrinking under the loudness of his voice. I've seen Rich mad before, but not at me, and not like this.  
"I don't think we should see each other for a while." he says.  
"What?" I sound meek, like a child, and I fucking hate it. "Why?"  
"Please, Eddie, please. Don't ask questions. Please just give me some time. Will you please -" his breath catches "Will you please just leave? Now?"  
He's pushing me away. He thinks that we can't be friends now, because of one simple kiss, and I don't know why he's so fucking upset and I wish that he would just talk to me. I'm mad and sad and hurt and Richie's hurt, too, and this is so not how I thought this day was gonna go. 'Two months of freddom', includes Richie by my side - I mean, my god, we've been friends since we were kids! It's always been me and him. People say our names, it comes out as one word: RichieandEddie. EdsandRich. We're a team.  
Why would a kiss throw that all away?  
I don't want to lose him, I don't want this. I didn't mean to mess up so badly, but it's done now. It's done.  
We're done.  
It's in the air, I can feel it. I've ruined us completely.  
"I'm sorry." I say, standing to leave. "I'm sorry. Please, please just take all the time you need. You...you know where I'll be if you need me. If you want to talk. Ever."  
And I get the fuck out of there.  
I climbed out of the window, just as messily as I climbed in, and jog down the street to my house, where, before I go inside, I look down at Richie's house one last time.  
But I don't see him.  
My mom becomes even more domineering as the days pass. The gang came to visit, each and everyone of them, and I'd stand at the top of the stairs as she told them that I didn't want to see them anymore. That they weren't welcome at my house, not any of them and especially not Richie.  
So much time passes that it feels our relationship is unrepairable. Richie never came around, never found a way to talk to me, and if I saw him, or any of the gang, for that matter, if felt too weird to try and talk to them. I knew he had told them what happened, of course he had - we were all too close for him not to. I'm sure they needed to know.  
As time passed, we grew too distant.  
There was no point to trying to pair something that was so clearly broken.  
-  
Back to the here and now, Richie is sitting at my kitchen table, and I'm grabbing him a Coke out of the refrigerator. Turning to him, making sure he knows I'm joking by keeping my voice light, I say,  
"Hey, how about we actually stay friends this time?"  
He turns in his chair to look at me, and seeing that I am just making fun, his face breaks into a huge smile that causes happiness to spread through my body.  
"Yeah, alright." he says, chuckling. "Sounds good to me.”


End file.
